Makin' Whoopee
by Alan wannabe
Summary: Denny, even on the new Alzheimer's drug, continues to exhibit the symptoms of Alzheimer's Disease, much to Alan's distress


Makin' Whooppee (Slash)

[Merriam Webster:Dictionary: expressing exuberence]

For the last 7 years, Alan had cared for Denny carefully, tenderly, following all Denny's doctors instruction exactly. And the unapproved medication Alan had obtained for him from the Supreme Court had been administered as directed. Denny had been intermittently alert, intermittently abusive to Alan verbally, yet seemed to be free of pain. Alan rejoiced, except when he took the abuse too literally. Many people do not know how it is to hard living with Alzheimer's patients can be, even when the problems they cause are unintentional. Denny still liked to have sex, of course, it's just that sometimes he seemed to forget how painful and unsexy anal sex can be for the recipient. One night Denny was particularly horny, and when he threw Alan onto his stomach and rammed his erect penis into Alan's unprepared anus, and a blood vessel popped in Alan and he cried out in pain. "Oh, so you can't take it, huh?" Denny chided. "I thought you loved me and wanted me inside you, and to come in you. Didn't you tell me that once?"

"Yes," Alan protested apologetically, "But that really, really hurts, Denny!" Alan was almost in tears from the pain. "You need to use more lubricant!"

"And when you cooked my eggs like rocks this morning, I almost needed lubricant to swallow them, too!"

"I'm so sorry, I've been apologizing for them all day. That's no excuse for a rape!"

"You wanted it, you slut, you know you did, why have you been encouraging me for months to exploit you for sex any time?"

"I have been, but sex we can both enjoy!" Alan wiped his eyes and nose on the tissue he kept for Denny by Denny's bed.

"I'm the one who is sick, not you, you perfect physical example of health!" Denny cried out.

"Don't you think I know that?" Alan now began to cry in earnest, but not so much from the pain anymore. "You are beginning to have sex with me as I imagine that Brad would!"

"Didn't you lust after Brad?" Denny complained.

"I always wondered what sex with him would be like! But I did not want to have violent, involuntary sex in which he had no regard for my comfort!" Alan stifled his sobs, feeling responsible for wrecking the sex-act for Denny.

"Well, cry-baby, if you don't want something don't tease and taunt or you might get it!"

"Denny, I love you, and normally I love being able to make it possible for you to enjoy sex, and me, too."

Alan could see this was going to be one of those evenings that he so dreaded lately. Denny was more often aggressive and angry in his behavior. Also, lately he had begun to hide things, like, now, all his guns. That worried Alan. Before, at one time, Denny's gun ownership and carelessness was a subject of harmless humor. But Denny had never taken his guns as amusing. And now, Alan could find none of them. Moreover, he had become almost impossible to lift and transport in Alan's arms, and Alan dreaded the thought of dropping him on the way to carrying him to the toilet or the tub. He had almost given up hope at the thought of not being all that Denny needed. Especially because Denny was so distrusting of anyone else. The mere thought of failing his beloved friend. could overcome him with anguish. If Denny didn't have so much difficulty walking because of his weight, Alan knew that his wandering would be an unmanageable nightmare. He knew that he had to keep Denny exercising to keep him in need of sleep and hungry enough to keep him eating. Lately, Alan was beginning to despair of being able to cook enough variety of balanced palatable meals to keep Denny's palate interested. Not that he needed any more weight, but when only pies and cakes and mousses interested Denny, Alan feared more than anything the development of diabetes as well as Denny's other multiple problems. With Alan approaching 50 years of age, he had discovered that he had developed vulnerabilities as well. Well, exercising with Denny would help with a lot of those. He knew that they both needed to develop tastes for more fitting meals and nutrition. Drinking "Esure" was not an option of which Denny would approve, he knew,, and he wasn't sure he was ready to go that far either. Although he had tasted some in butter-pecan flavor that was pretty savory for a non-healthy eating person. but he knew that Denny would never give up meat or fried foods for any period of time. And he knew that being a vegetarian was not essential to life. He wasn't sure what he would do if it ever came to making palatable pureed food for Denny. Sooner or later, he imagined that Denny might lose even his love of sex. He did not look forward to that day, because when they had gentle, consensual sex was a time when they were closest! And if there were anything that gave him pleasure it was being close to Denny, even when Denny became unreasonable as he was tonight. Just to be able to lay his head on Denny's generous chest and listen to his heartbeat and feel his warmth, gave Alan strength to be able to endure anything Denny's dementia could deal out the next day. Alan lay on the bed next to Denny, holding a gauze pad hard to his anus to stem the blood flow, and tried to think of something that would engage Denny's imagination and interest to ease the next day.

"I think I know what we need, Denny, my love! We should rent a cabin some in some place like Nimmo Bay and invite all our old friends to a party! Wouldn't that be fun?"

Denny lay listening more intently than Alan had dared to hope, then he responded"Do you really think that they would want to fly all the way out there just for a party?"

Alan considered his answer: "Not just a party, a party in the location where Shirley as married to Karl and Denny Crane was married to Alan Shore! And at a Vancouver fishing lodge with scenery that tops most scenarios in the United States! A party attended not only by Denny Crane himself, but by Alan Shore, and who knows who else of note. And we'll make it a good one, too!"

Denny looked doubtful: "I don't have any party ideas. I sure hope you do!"

Alan looked thoughtful for a minute, then he asked: "Why not a Star Trek party, with trekies and costumes, etc? Who doesn't remember and love Star Trek? We could even incorporate the English Torchwood series as well, if any of us want to make out?"

"Who do you plan to be...a Romulan-passionate, cunning, and opportunistic"?

"Good choice, but I'll have to think it over and maybe pick-up a Star Trek rental film?"

Denny began to become excited! He jumped up on the bed, and began bouncing up and down.

Alan quipped. "Don't tell me, you're in love with Katie!"

"Katie and Tom are fabrications of some Hollywood type's imagination! Trekkies! Can I come as Dr. McCoy?"

"Do you really think that is your best option?" Alan smiled crookedly, and embraced him. "Oh, Denny! Now this is Makin' Whoopee! Especially if you mean it in the sense of rabble rousing and letting it all hang out!" Alan kissed Denny long and hard on the mouth, rubbing his back with long, gentle strokes. Denny sucked Alan's tongue into his mouth fiercely and ran his into Alan mouth as well.

"I thought that Makin' Whoopee was Michelle Pfeiffer singing while lying on the piano in the "Baker Brothers!"

"Talk about Hollywood?" Alan replied with irony.

"All the world's a stage, and the men and women only players!" Denny quoted solemnly.

"Boy, you got that right, luv!"

"Are you going to send out the invitations, and arrange the lodging, and the costumes, and everything?"

"We shall both, it will be fun!" Alan laughed heartily. "Oh, won't it?"

"Well, I guess that now that we don't have secretaries to do these things any more..."

"What else do the simple folk do?" sang Alan from Camelot. Already his mind was spinning with the mutitude of things that Tara, and Shirley and Miranda and Lori and Paul and Karl seemed to do with such ease behind the scenes! He wasn't even sure where to find all the people who used to be at Crane, Poole and Schmidt. He knew that at least one of the young legal aids from the office had been killed in an automobile accident. If only he knew David Kelley's phone number or address. David had always been there. Yet he seemed to be caught up with "Harry's Law" on CBS and had replaced Alan with Kathy Bates. Now there was only fan-fiction. His eyes filled with water, and he felt himself letting down from the joy already. He was pretty sure that the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court would not attend. All of a sudden, he felt almost overwhelmed with the responsibility. Maybe he could locate Shirley and Karl and get some tips! But where to begin looking? Shirley had been left on the name of the firm, even after Chang had replaced the name of Crane. Maybe Boston was the place to look.

Later that day. Alan went to the living room, and with his cell phone, he dialed the familiar number of Crane, Poole and Schmidt (sorry, Chang, Poole and Schmidt), and asked for Shirley. After some time she came on the line, and recognizing Alan from the caller i d..and she said in her musical voice she often used now that Alan had been married off to Denny. "What's up, Alan?"

"Oh, good, I was afraid you might not be there and I didn't know where else to look! Shirley, in spite of the new medication helping Denny avoid pain, and even granting a bit of his memory, he has begun to show many signs typical of people with Alzheimer's disease. He is not eating properly and is almost unbearably grouchy, and even downright mean, sometimes. So I have decided to do something that is bound to make him more cheerful, even if only for a little while. He does have those moments!"

"Like what, Alan?"

I promised him that I would throw a Star Trek party, at Lake Nimmo at one of their spectacular rentals, and invite all the old crew from Crane, Poole, and Schmidt or at least as many as I can find. How many still work there?"

"Well, almost none of the head lawyers, so I guess you can't count on Brad...however that may break your heart..."

"Not my heart, Shirley, but I do think that Brad felt close to Denny, however."

"Well, since this is for Denny, I'll nose around and see if I can find where he has gone. Maybe the district attorney's office, as I seem to remember him working for them at one point. Anyway, Alan, I'll get you the list of people remaining here and their phone numbers and addresses, if that will help."

"Also, if you know any of them well personally, could you ask them if they have access to any of the original Star Trek's characters costumes?"

"Can do," replied Shirely, laughing at the idea of the party theme itself.

"I can contact Nimmo Bay and arrange for the reservations, myself."Alan laughed out loud at the very thought of the party. "Thank you, Shirley. Now the whole deal seems possible thanks to you!" Alan felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He felt pretty sure that he could handle the rest himself.

Denny was still in his state of excited anticipation and when he heard Alan making the arrangements for an appointment in one of the large and well-appointed Nimmo Bay apartments, he positively sparkled. Alan tried to put a note of reality into his explanations, he reported that: Shirley had told him that a lot of the litigation staff was no longer at C,P,&S. And she might not be able to find Brad. Denny darkened temporarily, and groused "I KNOW who's fault that was! You never got along with Brad, did you? Except in your sexual fantasies!"

" I urged her to try to find him for your sake, honestly, and she said she would do her best!" Alan protested sincerely. "But she is going to be a big help in composing the guest list! Thank heavens!"

"Now all we have to do is to imagine what character each person will be!" Denny started counting the number of 'crew' members to anticipate on his fingers. "No doubt Paul will admirably fill the post of Dr. McCoy! And as I said before you would be perfect as a Romulan."

"But I don't want to get into any unpleasantness with Spock!"

"But you two are related, if opposite"

"Have you considered who Spock might be?" Alan urged.

"Well, he will never be greater than his captain!"

"Of course not! And I assume that you will be Kirk!"

"Well, why not? Who deserves it more?"

"Not I, said the fly!" Alan burst out in uncharacteristic modesty. "Denny, you hardly slept last night. Don't you think your ought rest tonight instead of jumping up and down on the bed all night?"

"Well, you know I just might need something to help me sleep. Think you can handle that, lover?"

Alan stood up readily and volunteered with gusto. "I believe I can manage that if I can grease you up first."

"Yes, let's us both enjoy this one! I want to sleep, not listen to you piss and moan."

" Works for me, just put your head on my shoulder and blow in my ear as I carry you up to bed!"

"You really ought to be working out more to carry me without accident!"

"We both need more exercise, you know..."

"Can't you just let me die in peace?"

"No!" insisted Alan, "if I have to work out, so do you!"

"These are supposed to be my golden years, Romulan!"

"And none of us want to see anything interrupt them, Captain!"

As gently as he could with a protesting back and shoulders, Alan deposited Denny on the bed, then undressed and lay on the other side of the bed, head to Denny's pelvis. Denny began to moan in anticipation. When Denny's penis was in Alan's accepting mouth, Denny jerked back as if bitten. "What was that about?" Denny demanded to know.

"What was what about?" Alan was genuinely puzzled. Then Denny lay perfectly still, eyes closed, not speaking anymore.

"Denny, Denny?" Alan questioned him. When he began to fellate Denny, there was no reaction, good nor bad!

Alan moved to Denny's head and began to carress Denny's face. His skin was yet warm, but he had no reaction to the discontinued fellatio or to the pats of Alan on his face. Alan grew nervous with Denny's lack of responsiveness, and put his finger under Denny's nostrils to feel for breath. When he detected none, he started up and went for his phone to try to summon help. He knew that Denny had been less himself lately, but this was getting scarey! When he reached the emergency response center, the operator told him to try artificial respiration, and just wait while the ambulance rushed to their address as quickly as possible. Alan sat up by Denny's head and bent over him and tried blowing into his mouth and nostrils while beginning compressions of Denny's chest. He felt that any time, Denny was going to sit up and demand to know why Alan was kissing him on the mouth. But that would have been a long-passed Denny. In the last ten years, Denny rejoiced in Alan's kisses. Alan felt sweat begin to run down his face and arms. His own chest tightened and tears coursed down his face. This couldn't be it, could it? All the joyful planning of yesterday faded into the void of his suffering. Then he heard the EMT's drive up and start to break in the door, and hope surged into his chest again.

"What was going on just before he cried out?" the chief of the EMT's wanted to know.

"He had asked me to carry him upstairs and fellate him until he could sleep!" Alan confessed his own embarrassment, taking control of his weeping. "Then he exclaimed as if he were in pain, and he went completely limp."

"Did he ejaculate?" the medic asked matter-of-factly. "And has he ejaclulated before when you fellate him?"

Alan began to sob, and he nodded. "That's why he asked me to do it again,obviously! He has had some problems getting to sleep lately."

"Are you two homosexual lovers?"

That was going to be a tough one, Alan realized. "We are from Massachussetts where marriage between gay partners is legal, and we were just married at Camp Nimmo, Vancouver, Canada." No one told us it was illegal, and in the last ten years, we have enjoyed each other, sexually." He thought of how upset this conversation would make Denny, as he had confidence in Alan to never repeat that which Denny had enjoyed so much. But Alan knew that anything pertinent to Denny's condition might be relevant now., and since he was not a medical person himself, he knew he had to trust these professionals right now. "Denny has been ill with an Alzheimer's-like disease for 8-12 years now. And it did seem to be advancing somewhat in the last 8 months or so. But he had been granted the use of a highly hopeful drug for Alzheimer's by the Supreme Court in the last ten years, and it seemed to be helping his memory, his logic, and his humor and happiness. And he told me he had no pain."

"How old was Mr. _?"

"Denny Crane just turned 82."

"And not in pain? Wow!" the chief EMT said.

"Yes, the medication was looking very hopeful to us both!"

"There really is a reason that drugs are subjected to testing before they are approved by the FDA!" the chief EMT (Phil, admonished Alan)..

At this thought, Alan began to weep heavily, and berate to himself! "What have I done, Denny? For an extra 7-8 years...Was it worth it to you? I know it was for me, but if my litigation work only brought on your death somewhat earlier, I shall never, never forgive myself!"

Phil seemed to have been one of the Canadian gays who had benefited from living in Canada, with its relaxed restrictions on gay Canadians. He put his arms around Alan and held him tightly for a few moments, whispering softly to him such words of comfort as he could, including that an ill man especially of that age is often afflicted of stroke. Alan was not really comforted, as he knew what he had done, and he just wept harder as Phil tried to help. Finally, he thanked Phil and all the other EMT's who had come out so late at night! Phil asked if Denny had expressed how he wanted his body to be handled after death. Alan replied that they had worked so hard to keep him alive that neither of them had spoken of death, except that Alan had expressed a desire not to be cremated. Denny was so much larger than death, that Alan had never even approached the subject.."I think that he doesn't want to be cremated, as I do neither. We both decided that if we weren't to be cremated, however, that we wouldn't be able to be scattered over our favorite place, Denny's balcony,without some one shouting out first, "Look out below'".

Phil seemed to agree that would be best, but protested that that point really didn't answer the question!

"No," Alan agreed. He ventured that Denny would want to be returned to the Earth's resources.

"But," protested Phil, "sanitation laws do not permit people's bodies to be laid out for Nature to take its course, as did many of the Native Americans".

Alan said he could understand that. "That would really cut into the profits of the mortuary business. Besides, I believe I saw the proper disposal method metnioned on Monty Python's last show. The mortuary assistant looked at the grieving son's dead mother and announced that she looked good enough to be an eater, as opposed to burial which would bring on her being destroyed by the being eaten by weevils and other creatures of the earth, and as opposed by burning, which would result in a lot of crackling and smoking. The son was told that if he ate her and then felt guilty, the undertaker could dig a grave for him to vomit into!"

Phil was now totally queasy, and Alan felt much better now that he had outraged someone!


End file.
